


One Man's Pain (Is Another Man's Pleasure)

by ArchitectofSorrow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, BDSM, Birthday Sex, Birthday Spanking, Bondage, Bottom Sam Wilson, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Diner Sam Wilson, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Elaborate Roleplay, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Choking, M/M, Masochism, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Roleplay, Sadism, Sam/Bucky bonding, Samstevebucky - Freeform, Slash, Smut, Spanking, Sub Sam Wilson, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Waiter Bucky Barnes, Waiter Steve Rogers, in that order, mouth soaping, mouth washing, slight exhibitionism, with hand, with paddle, with ruler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchitectofSorrow/pseuds/ArchitectofSorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘So, in a BDSM thing are you usually sub or dom?’</p><p>‘I’m pretty flexible, but I prefer the submissive role.’</p><p>Bucky looks in Sam’s direction, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Is that because you’re inexperienced or because you like being punished?’</p><p>Sam swallows. ‘I like being punished.’</p><p>Bucky smiles. ‘Good. Because you’ve been a bad boy.’</p><p>(BDSM, Polyamory: Sam/Steve/Bucky)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Man's Pain (Is Another Man's Pleasure)

Sam sits at the table, chewing on his bottom lip. He’s wearing a pressed blue button-down and a purple necktie. His black dress pants match his black shoes, and a black suit jacket is hanging off the back of his chair. On the table in front of him lie the remaining crumbs of his tiramisu cheesecake. He stares at the wide chandelier in the middle of the room, with its strings of crystals reflecting color and at all the people in their magnificent evening attire. He’s at one of the most glamorous and expensive restaurants in the city. He had to make a reservation two months in advance, and now he’s stuck here, looking up at a tall and irate waiter.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Sam says, ‘I forgot my wallet.’

‘Well, allow me to follow you to your car.’ The waiter tucks the bill into the pocket of his silk vest and stands by, waiting for Sam to get up. He looks like a marble statue, white and severe. His blond hair is perfectly coiffed and gleams with product. His eyes are a soft shade of baby blue that would look even softer if the waiter weren’t glaring at Sam.

Sam hesitates, his heart galloping in his chest. ‘Thing is, sir, I took a cab here.’

The waiter folds his arms. ‘And you lost the wallet in the cab?’

‘Yeah, I think so, but I’ll come back tomorrow and pay up. I’ll leave you a huge tip.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ the waiter says. A few people look over, disturbed and curious. ‘I don’t think you left the wallet in a cab. I think you just never planned on bringing it. You’re just another one of those scoundrels who thinks he can eat a six-course meal and then split without paying.’

Even more people are staring now, though some look away, pretending they don’t see, cleaning their mouths with their linen napkins. No one makes a move to help or defend Sam.

‘Maybe there’s another way I can pay,’ Sam says, ‘I could do dishes, clean up.’

‘No, no,’ the waiter says, ‘we have bus boys who do that, if we take their work away from them, they’ll just slouch around, and it will destroy the industrious atmosphere of this brilliant establishment.’

‘So, what can I do?’

‘Do you have a friend in the city who you can call to bail you out?’

‘No.’ Sam shifts in his seat. ‘I’m a stranger in town.’

‘All the more reason not to trust you.’ The waiter pulls a phone from his pocket.

Sam jumps up and touches the waiter’s forearm, gives it a barely noticeable squeeze. ‘Please, sir, isn’t there a way we could handle this just between us, without getting the police involved?’

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘Well, it’s just today is my birthday, and I’ve already spent the day alone. I could do without a night in jail.’

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you stole over a hundred dollars worth of food and wine.’ But the waiter’s face has softened, and he lowers the phone. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘I…I’m not sure.’ Sam looks at the people in the surrounding tables. Some have gone back to their respective dinners, but still others stare. ‘Maybe I could do some work at your place? I’m a handy man around a house.’

‘I’m afraid that my flat is already in tip-top shape, but maybe I can talk to my manager, arrange something.’

Sam leans in towards the waiter, whispers in his ear, ‘I’m good in bed.’

The waiter jumps. Sam almost laughs, because the waiter’s mouth actually made an ‘o’ shape, but he checks himself.

‘Sorry,’ the waiter says, ‘could you repeat that?’

Sam leans in again, his lips touching the waiter’s ear. He breathes into it. ‘I’m good in bed, not just good, spectacular, and I’m willing to do pretty much anything.’

The waiter gives a barely audible gasp, steps back. He looks around at the spectators and clears his throat. ‘Yes, as I was saying I think we can make some sort of arrangement. I’ll settle your bill. Just stay here a moment.’ He ushers Sam back to the chair and dashes away. 

Ten minutes later, the waiter returns. Relief crosses his face when he sees that Sam is still there. ‘I’m sorry, I got held up, but uh, you’re clear. Do you still want to do what we talked about?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Sam says. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Fantastic.’ The waiter nervously licks his lips. ‘Hey, is it all right if my friend joins us?’

‘Friend?’

‘Fellow waiter. Him.’ The waiter points at another tall fellow. This one has longish, brown hair, which he has swept back in a bun. Like the first fellow, this waiter also has a statuesque body, blue eyes, and a stunning face. Unlike the first waiter, this one is not cleave shaven but has trimmed stubble. He also has a metal hand peeking out from under his white dress shirt. Sam looks him over appreciatively. 

‘Him I would be fine with. You two seeing each other?’

The blond waiter smiles. ‘Something like that. He thinks you’re hot.’

Sam laughs. ‘No surprise there.’

The blond waiter keeps smiling like he’s making up for all the frowning he did earlier. ‘He pitched in for your dinner too. I’m Steve by the way. My friend’s name is Bucky.’

‘Well, nice to meet you guys.’

‘Nice to meet you too.’ 

Sam stands up, and he and Steve shake hands. 

‘Sorry about being so hostile earlier,’ Steve says, ‘it’s just we get quite a few eat-and-dashers and it cuts from our tips and just makes things difficult in general.’

‘It’s okay.’

Steve looks down at his watch. ‘So, my shift ends in like twelve minutes if you want to wait around.’

‘Sure.’

Steve puts down a plate filled with macarons. ‘Here, I got you some cookies from the back, if you’re not already too full.’

Sam reseats himself and picks up one of the colorful, sandwich cookies. ‘Thanks.’

^^

After Steve’s shift ended, he and Sam went out to the parking lot together. Bucky, whose shift ended the same time as Steve’s, trailed a bit behind them. 

‘So, you sure you’re cool with this?’ Steve asks. 

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m cool.’ Sam is half running to keep up with Steve’s long strides.

‘Cool, because I’ve never really done anything like this before.’

‘Threesome?’

‘No, um, picking someone up like that. It feels kinda prostitute-y.’

Sam chuckles and shakes his head. ‘I don’t think that’s a word, but yeah, I’m down with spending a night with two hot waiters. I always had a thing for the uniform.’

Steve’s mouth does that ‘o’ thing again. ‘Really? I mean I’ve heard about people digging soldier and police uniforms, but waiter? Bow tie and a vest?’

‘Hey, we like what we like. You guys look sharp.’

‘And penguin-ey.’

Sam raises an eyebrow. ‘Again, I don’t think that’s a real word.’ 

‘Okay, Mr. Dictionary.’ Steve stops in front of a silver Land Rover. ‘Well, here she is. Our baby.’ He pats the hood.

‘That yours?’ Sam looks in awe at the gleaming vehicle.

‘Yeah, it wasn’t cheap,’ Steve says, ‘but we thought it was a good investment. Makes a grand first impression anyway.’ He pushes a button of the Rover’s remote, goes over and opens the front passenger seat. ‘Climb in.’

Sam obeys, sliding his ass onto the ultra comfortable seat.

Steve leans towards him. ‘Like it?’ 

‘Yeah.’

‘Good.’ Steve presses a kiss to Sam’s lips then closes the door on him. Sam feels a shudder run through him as he leans back into the seat. He looks over and sees Bucky climbing into the driver seat. Steve gets in back behind Sam.

‘So, you guys share a vehicle?’ Sam says, buckling in.

‘Yep,’ Steve and Bucky chime together.

‘And you live together?’

‘Yep.’

‘But you’re not together?’

‘Not exactly,’ Steve says. ‘We’re roommate fuck buddies who really like each other, but Bucky’s had it rough for a while now, so he’s not looking for any kind of commitment just yet.’

Sam looks back at Steve. ‘And you’re cool with that?’ 

‘Sure. I like sleeping with my hot roommate without having to worry about paying for his food or sending him cute cards or listening to his problems.’

‘You do listen to my problems,’ Bucky says.

‘Oh, yeah, I do. Bother. How did that happen?’

Bucky shrugs. ‘I must have tricked you.’

‘Right.’ Steve leans forward from the back seat. ‘So, what kind of sex stuff do you like, Sam?’

‘All sorts.’

‘Like?’

‘Oral, anal, vaginal, vanilla, private, public, dirty talking, spanking, BDSM, suffocating, choking, role play, cross dressing, fingering, mutual masturbation, toys, et cetera.’

‘Wow,’ Bucky says. He keeps his eyes on the road. ‘Anything you really don’t like?’

‘Uh, I’m not so much into scat play. Pee is okay, but I won’t do the brown stuff, and I’ve never tried fisting, so I don’t know about that.’

‘Well, you seem pretty sure about all this,’ Steve says, ‘you must have had quite a bit of experience.’

Sam smiles. ‘I’ve had my share.’

‘Any STIs?’ Bucky asks. 

‘No, clean bill of health. I use protection and have regular check-ins just to be sure.’

‘That’s always good to here,’ Bucky says. ‘So, in a BDSM thing are you usually sub or dom?’

‘I’m pretty flexible, but I prefer the submissive role.’

Bucky looks in Sam’s direction, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Is that because you’re inexperienced or because you like being punished?’

Sam swallows. ‘I like being punished.’

Bucky smiles. ‘Good. Because you’ve been a bad boy.’

 

^^

Twenty minutes later they arrive at an apartment complex. Bucky parks the Rover in a nearby garage, and they take the elevator up to Steve and Bucky’s flat. It’s a large and airy apartment: big windows with gossamer curtains, light woods floors, and white walls and cabinets– smooth, sleek. The room they enter is an open-concept kitchen, dining, and living room area. The lights turn on automatically as they come in.

‘Wow, nice,’ Sam says, ‘great place.’

‘We think so.’ Bucky opens the fridge, starts digging through it. ‘So, you hungry?’

‘I just ate.’

‘Oh, right that meal you stole from us. What was it five, six courses?’

‘Seven if you count the nuts and sorbet,’ Sam says, ‘and eight if you count the cookies Steve gave me afterwards to keep me around.’

‘So, you’re paying for eight courses, interesting.’ 

‘Bucky stop scaring him,’ Steve says.

‘He’s not scared. He’s practically wriggling with anticipation. Look at him.’

Sam feels his cheeks grow hot, as Steve and Bucky both survey him. He’s already got a hard-on, did since Bucky called him a ‘bad boy’ in the Rover. He’s still ashamed that a line as cliché as that was the thing that got him. God. But Bucky’s got such a suave and commanding voice.

‘You want a coke?’ Bucky asks. He’s got three bottles in his hands. He sets two down on the counter and pops one open, takes a gulp.

‘Uh, sure.’ Despite the wine Sam drank during the meal the salt in the seafood he ate is making him thirsty again.

Bucky looks Sam up and down. ‘Call me “sir.” And take your clothes off.’

‘What?’

‘Nudity grants you a cold bottle of pop.’

‘The safe word is “olives,’” Steve puts in. He takes the second coke. ‘And it’s “yellow” like normal for slow down or take a break.’

Sam looks at the windows, uncovered and wide open, letting in the cool evening air. He reaches down and undoes his belt.

‘Go to the middle of the room,’ Bucky tells him, ‘face the window.’

Sam walks to the middle of the room and turns towards the open window. In the apartment across from them, a couple is seated on a thousand dollar sectional, watching a movie on a huge, wall-mounted TV. Sam pulls his belt out of the loops and drops it on the floor then reaches down and unties the laces of his shoes. ‘Do you want me to take all my clothes off, sir?’ 

‘Yes.’

Sam takes off his shoes and socks, pushes them and the belt to the side. He starts undoing his tie.

‘Wait,’ Steve says, ‘I like the tie. We could do some fun stuff with the tie.’

Sam stops.

‘Fine,’ Bucky says, ‘leave the tie, but the pants and underpants need to go. I want to see that ass.’

Sam feels more blood rush to his face and other places as well. He shifts awkwardly.

‘Legs shoulder length apart,’ Bucky says.

Sam complies, moving his legs apart. He undoes his fly and pulls his pants and briefs down and then off his ankles, shoves them into the pile with his shoes and belt.

‘Good boy.’ Bucky walks over to Sam and squeezes his butt, places a soda in his hand. ‘There you go.’ The coke is already open, so Sam takes a sip. Its fizz stings his tongue but soothes his throat. Bucky’s hands are still on Sam’s ass. Bucky uses his warm, flesh hand to pinch and knead while holding Sam in place with his metal hand, which is cold and hard against Sam’s skin. Sam relishes both sensations. 

‘God, you’re beautiful,’ Bucky says, ‘Look at him, Steve, look at how beautiful. I mean I knew it, but it’s still great to see.’

Steve comes closer, and Bucky, not letting go of Sam, moves to the front, sliding his hands around to rest on Sam’s hips.

‘Ooh, nice pelvic bones,’ Bucky says, ‘and this fellow.’ He touches the tip of Sam’s erect cock with his living hand. ‘Sweet.’

Sam didn’t think he could blush any harder, but now it feels like his face is on fire. Actually, his whole body feels hot. Sam takes another long sip of coke, hoping it will cool him, but it doesn’t seem to have much effect. Steve is touching Sam’s butt now, his long fingers feeling and fondling every inch.

‘We’re going to want to keep this boy up for a while.’ Bucky runs a metal finger up Sam’s shaft. ‘Have you tried cock rings before?’

Sam nods. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Did you like them?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good.’ Bucky stashes his coke in the fridge, walks into another room – a bedroom Sam guesses from what he can see– and comes back with a box that’s made of multiple levels of trays – a large jewelry box maybe – sets it down on the floor near Sam. He pulls out one of the trays. It’s filled with a variety of cock rings.

‘Why don’t you make a selection?’ 

Sam looks them over indecisively then smiles at the waiter uniform Bucky is still wearing. ‘What would you suggest, sir?’ 

It’s Steve who answers. ‘We have all types. The ones that go over both the shaft and the balls usually work better than the ones that just go over the shaft though. We also have vibrating rings. Those are nice. The most important thing is to make sure the ring fits. If it’s too tight, it will cut off the circulation, but you probably already know that. This one looks about your size.’ Steve holds up a black silicon ring with an attached butt plug. ‘You like plugs?’ 

‘I do.’

‘Great,’ Steve says, ‘we’ll get you set up with that then.’

Bucky elbows Steve in the side. ‘Steve likes that one quite a bit, don’t you, punk?’

Steve’s cheeks turn a pleasing shade of pink. ‘Shut up.’

Bucky grins. ‘Why don’t you go grab the lube?’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Because you had it last, slut.’

Steve’s cheeks turn a darker shade of pink, and he dashes off to the bedroom, returns twenty seconds later with a bottle of water-based lube. Bucky takes it from him, uncaps it.

‘Okay, Sam,’ Bucky says. ‘I’m going to slick you down now, put my fingers inside you a bit. You okay with that?’

Sam looks over his shoulder at Bucky. ‘Yeah, of course, I’m here, aren’t I? And, yes, I remember, the safe word is “olives,” because apparently all you guys ever think about is food.’

‘Hey, no need to get lippy,’ Bucky says, ‘we’re all about consent here, being safe.’

‘Sorry, sir. I’m just all wound up.’

Bucky smirks. ‘I know.’

‘You’re being slow on purpose, aren’t you?’

‘Maybe.’ Bucky reaches between Sam’s legs, runs a flesh finger along Sam’s shaft, strokes the head.

Sam shudders. ‘You’re a bad man, sir.’

‘No, you’re bad.’ Bucky gives the head a quick pinch then let's go. ‘We’re disciplining you. Now keep quiet while I get this on.’ 

Sam cringes at the pinch but quickly recovers. ‘Yes, sir.’ 

Sam stands looking out the window in front of him. The couple is still there, snuggling now. 

‘You done with this for now?’ Steve asks tapping Sam’s coke bottle. Sam nods, and Steve takes it, puts it in the fridge with the two other opened cokes.

Bucky applies a generous amount of lube to the flesh of his palm and rubs it onto Sam’s dick, which is already dripping with pre-cum. He slips the ring on then moves back, slides a wet finger up into Sam’s ass. It goes in easy, so Bucky pushes in another one. This causes Sam a little discomfort. The third finger is what hurts, and Sam grunts. Bucky adds more lube then pushes the plug in. Sam lets out a gasp and a hiss, but it’s not really all that bad, just tight and hard and long enough to hit him in just the right spots. He likes the plug filling up his hole and the way the ring pulls his cock into a fully erect position. 

Bucky pushes the plug in a little deeper, securing it. He goes to the sink and washes the excess lube off his hands then returns to inspect his work. ‘What do you think, Steve?’

‘He looks amazing,’ Steve says. ‘You look amazing, Sam.’

‘I know,’ Bucky and Sam say at the same time. Bucky kicks Sam lightly on the leg.

‘What?’ Sam says. ‘You agree with me.’

‘I told you to be quiet.’

‘While you were putting it on, sir.’

Bucky shakes his head. ‘Now you’re just making fun of me.’

Sam smiles sideways at Bucky. ‘Maybe you should teach me some manners.’

‘I will. Don’t worry.’ Bucky grabs Sam by the tie, hauls him across the room towards the bathroom. It’s so unexpected that Sam almost loses his balance. He catches himself but chokes, the tie digging into his throat. He thinks about saying “olives” because he doesn’t what Bucky’s up to, but he’s also madly curious.

Bucky takes Sam to the sink and turns the faucet on, both the cold and hot water taps. Steve is coming in behind them.

‘Hold him,’ Bucky says. He pushes Sam in Steve’s direction, and Steve grabs him, pushes Sam’s face down under the faucet until Sam’s mouth is filled with warm water. Sam emerges, coughing, to see Bucky holding a bottle of hand soap. 

‘Open your mouth,’ Bucky tells him.

Sam opens it.

‘Wider.’

Sam stretches his mouth wide open until it hurts.

Bucky squirts the soap directly into Sam’s mouth. One, two, three, four, five squirts. It tastes terrible, just tremendously awful. It’s that yellow hand soap that Sam doesn’t even like using on his hands because it smells weird, but it’s so much worse in his mouth. He swallows but it’s still there. He wishes he had his soda back. He looks up pleadingly at Bucky.

‘What?’ Bucky says. ‘You were asking for it. Consider that payment for your second course and your sass.’

‘Can I rinse it out now?’

‘No, not until I say so.’ 

Sam continues to swallow and lick the inside of his mouth, hoping to get the taste out. It’s nasty, but god, he’s getting even harder. Bucky’s one hell of a hot Dom. 

Bucky takes Sam by the tie again, gentler this time so Sam doesn’t choke, leads him out of the bathroom into an office. There’s a desk at the other end of the room with a nice, big window behind it. There are so many big windows in this flat. Bucky takes Sam to the desk, pulls the chair aside, and bends Sam over. 

‘Get the handcuffs.’

Steve goes back to the kitchen, comes back with the big tray box, sets it down. He opens the bottom tray and pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

‘You want him cuffed in front or back?’ Steve asks.

‘Back. But I have to get the shirt off first.’ Bucky undoes Sam’s tie and his shirt buttons, pulls the shirt off and throws it over the chair. He presses Sam back down, so his now bare chest is against the cold, hard surface of the steel desk. Sam shivers. His ass was cold already, but now the metal, and the wind coming in from the open window chill his whole body. Steve and Bucky don’t seem to notice the descending temperature, but then they are still fully dressed. Sam’s completely naked.

Steve takes Sam’s hands and tugs them behind his back, puts the cuffs around Sam’s wrists, locks them in place. He then slides his hands under Sam and squeezes both of his nipples. The nipples harden instantly, already stirred by the cold. Sam bucks up against Steve, away from the hard edge of the desk.

‘Hey, hey,’ Bucky says, ‘not yet, Sam, you have to wait to come.’

‘How long do I have to wait, sir?’ Sam asks. The taste of the soap is still in his mouth, and it seems stronger every time Bucky speaks, though that’s probably just psychological.

‘I don’t know. First, we have to finish your punishment. Steve, clamps.’ Steve hands Bucky a pair of brass tweezer clamps with rubber heads. They have a chain running between them as well as chains that hang down from them. Bucky flicks then twists one of Sam’s hard nipples. Sam gives an involuntary moan.

‘Anything you want to say?’ Bucky asks.

‘I don’t know,’ Sam says, ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Insolence.’ Bucky takes one of the clamps and closes it over Sam’s left nipple. Sam squirms and tries to reach to get it off before remembering he’s cuffed. It hurts at first, but after a moment his nipple adjusts, and Sam wishes it could be tighter. He watches as Bucky clamps the right one.

‘How does that feel?’ Bucky asks.

‘It hurts, sir.’

‘Do you want it to hurt more?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Bucky tightens the first clamp a bit. ‘That good?’

‘You could tighten it a little more.’

Bucky obliges. ‘That good?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Sam’s nipple aches but in an oh-so-good way that makes all his nerves feel aroused and ready.

Bucky moves on to the second clamp - tightens it too at Sam’s instruction. Bucky presses his lips to the base of Sam’s neck, kisses him down to the clavicle.

‘You have nice bones. I mean all of them, especially these cheekbones. They’re just perfect.’ Bucky runs a finger along Sam’s cheekbone up to his eyebrow and then across to the other brow. ‘And your eyes, they’re beautiful, so dark and those lashes. I have a thing for guys with lovely lashes.’ He smiles back over his shoulder at Steve, who blushes and glares at him from under superbly long, dark lashes. 

‘But I’m drifting.’ Bucky takes the chains that are dangling from Sam’s nipple clamps and wraps and clasps them around the locked drawers of the desk. ‘There. Now you can’t get away.’

‘I wasn’t planning to, sir.’ 

‘You might change your mind when you find out what’s next,’ Steve says.

‘What’s next?’ Sam looks back behind him at Steve and Bucky, which is hard because every move he makes pulls at his clamped nipples.

‘We’re planning on paddling you,’ Bucky says.

Sam raises an eyebrow. ‘Both of you?’

‘Well, no, I can see Steve’s feeling a little left out, so I’m going to let him have this. I’ll just watch.’ Bucky grabs the desk chair and places it further off to the side. He sits down on it, leans back, putting one leg over the other. He’d look like a mobster if he were smoking a cigar and not wearing that cute waiter uniform.

Steve opens another one of the drawers on the tray box. He pulls out a riding crop, a bamboo cane, a hard backed hairbrush, a steel ruler, and a wooden paddle. ‘Your choice,’ he tells Sam.

‘How many times are you going to hit me?’

Steve looks Sam over, eyes lingering on Sam’s naked ass, which is sticking out away from the desk and towards Steve. ‘How old are you? You said it was your birthday today, so how old are you now?’

‘What if I lie?’ Sam feels his butt clench, which pushes the plug he’s wearing up against the sides of his hole. He feels exposed, vulnerable. He couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. His body is alert and afraid, and that thrills him. 

‘I’ll know, and it will be worse.’

Sam likes this answer and the cold tone with which Steve gives it. His cock is throbbing in its ring. He wishes he could touch it, because it’s agony, but he can’t reach it with his hands cuffed. ‘I’m thirty-seven. Is that how many times you’re going to smack me?’

Steve smiles. ‘It depends on one question. Did you really forget your wallet?’

‘It’s not on me. You can check.’

‘That’s not what I asked. Did you forget the wallet, Sam?’

Sam licks his lip. ‘No, I just didn’t bring it.’

‘I knew it!’ Steve turns to Bucky. ‘You owe me twenty bucks and a blowjob.’

‘Fine, fine.’ Bucky pulls out his wallet and digs out a twenty-dollar bill, hands it to Steve, who shoves it into his vest pocket and directs his attention back to Sam.

‘So, why did you do it, Sam?’ Steve puts his hands on Sam’s lower back, trails them down across Sam’s butt cheeks, gently pressing on Sam’s skin.

Sam swallows, nervous about the anger that has crept into Steve’s voice. He can still taste the soap in his mouth. These guys don’t mess around. When they say they’re going to do something, they do it, right off the bat. ‘I have this thing where I’m addicted to getting myself into sticky situations. It gives me a rush.’

Steve continues to rub Sam’s butt, which is warming under his fingers. ‘I see. Well, I was going to let you off easy with half your age in smacks, but as you did the deed on purpose, all I can say is that you’ve been a very naughty boy and you deserve what is coming to you.’

‘What about my honesty, doesn’t that count for something?’

Steve takes his hands off Sam’s butt. ‘We’ll take off one, make it an even thirty-six. Now choose your implements.’ 

Steve lays the crop, cane, ruler, paddle, and brush out on the desk in front of Sam then takes off his belt and adds it to the line. 

Sam looks them over. ‘Hand, ruler, paddle.’

Steve’s raised eyebrow is his only comment on Sam choosing his hand when it wasn’t a given implement. ‘Very well. Are you ready?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Spread your legs a little wider.’

Sam pushes his legs apart as far as he can without losing his balance. The clamps tighten on his nipples as he pulls on the chains to get into position. ‘That good?’

Steve doesn’t answer. Instead, he hits Sam, hard, just left of his plugged hole. 

‘Jesus,’ Sam hisses. Sam suggested ‘hand’ because he thought it would be lighter, but the force and strength of Steve’s hand would give any implement a run for its money.

‘No swearing,’ Steve says, ‘we just washed your mouth, don’t want to dirty it already. You’re getting an extra smack for that.’ He delivers another blow, this time lower on Sam’s ass, a tender spot just above his thigh. Sam grits his teeth together to keep another blasphemy from slipping out. Steve continues striking him, one cheek and then the other. Sam wishes he at least had his hands free, so he could grip the back of the desk, but there’s no sense in asking. It will just make him seem weak. He can take this. Underneath the current of pain, he can feel the plug inside hitting his prostrate as he clenches, giving him a shock of pleasure after each hit. 

‘Six.’

Smack.

‘Seven.’

Smack.

‘Eight.’

Smack.

‘Holy,’ Sam says, ‘we’re only there?’

Steve brings him palm down. ‘Eight.’

‘You already said eight.’

‘And I said no swearing. You do it again, and I’ll start over.’

Sam wonders if Steve’s kidding. He cranes his head to gauge Bucky’s reaction, but Bucky’s face is impassive, and Sam’s nipples are dying. He lies back down against the top of the desk.

‘Nine, ten, eleven, twelve.’ Now Steve is sticking to one sore spot on Sam’s ass. The repetitive force against the tender skin of Sam’s lower left buttock is making him squirm.

‘Stay still,’ Steve orders.

‘Fuck you.’ Sam can’t believe he’s already blinking back tears.

Steve sighs. ‘I warned you.’ He brings his hand down super hard on the same spot. ‘One.’

Sam chokes back a sob. ‘God, I thought you were kidding.’

‘Do I look like someone who just kids around?’ Steve smacks him again. ‘One.’

‘I don’t think ‘God’ should count as a swear word.’

Steve takes Sam’s face in his hand, pulls it towards him. ‘Do you really want to argue with me right now?’

Sam feels Steve’s nails digging into his cheeks, and his screaming nipples tell him he’s at the end of his chain. ‘No, sir.’

‘Good.’ Steve lets go of Sam’s face, swings his hand back down on his butt. ‘Two.’

Sam stays still, taking smack after horrible smack. He can feel his ass heating up, as it’s fiercely pummeled. Steve reaches twelve again and stops, catches his breath. Sam cries silently, his forehead pressed against the metal desk.

‘How do you feel?’ Steve is already breathing normally again.

‘It hurts.’

‘Yes, but do you feel sorry? For stealing?’

Sam nods. ‘Yes, yes.’

‘And will you do it again?’

‘No, sir, never. Are you going to stop now?’

‘No, that was just my hand. You still have twelve strokes from both the ruler and the paddle. Do you want to take a break?’

Sam shakes his head. ‘No, I want to get it over with.’

‘Okay.’ Steve picks up the ruler. ‘I’m going to do both your ass and your thighs with this, all right?’

Sam lets out a groan. He has been hit by a steel ruler before, and he recalls how it smarted, especially blows to the thighs.

‘Yes, it’s going to sting. Do you want me to go easy on you?’

‘No, I’ve been dreadful. I deserve a good thrashing.’

‘Very well. Keep your legs spread out. Don’t clench up. It will be over before you know it, and then everything will be forgiven.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Unable to see Steve behind him, Sam waits in blind trepidation for the next blow.

Steve cups one of Sam’s butt cheeks with his hand and uses this hold to push Sam against the edge of the desk. For a moment Sam can feel Steve’s still clothed but rigid cock against his bare ass, and then Steve leans away and delivers the first strike of the ruler right where his cock was mere seconds ago. Sam cries out in pain and surprise.

‘I want you to count now,’ Steve says, leaning close to Sam’s ear.

Sam whimpers. ‘From one or thirteen?’

‘Whichever.’

‘One,’ Sam says.

Steve strikes again in the middle of the right cheek, the ruler leaving a stinging imprint on Sam’s butt.

Sam draws a breath. ‘Two.’

Steve whacks Sam’s inner thigh – hard enough to leave welts.

‘Christ,’ Sam says, and then, ‘one.’

‘Good boy.’ Steve delivers the remaining stinging ruler blows to Sam’s sore bottom and thighs. Sam messes up twice more, and by the time Steve’s finished, Sam has lost all pretense of being brave and is loudly sobbing against the desk. 

‘Only twelve more to go,’ Steve says, ‘you’re doing good, baby.’ 

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ Sam sniffles. 

‘I know. You ready?’ Steve puts down the ruler and picks up the paddle.

‘Just those and then we’re good?’ Sam asks through tears.

‘That’s right.’

‘Okay. But can Bucky finish? I wronged him to.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve says, ‘if that’s what you want, but he’s not going to be easier on you.’

‘I don’t want him to be.’

Bucky gets up, and Steve hands him the paddle. 

‘I can’t count anymore,’ Sam says.

‘It’s okay,’ Bucky says, ‘I’ll do it for you.’

Sam nods and allows himself to descend back into tears as Bucky paddles him. Steve’s right. Bucky isn’t easier on him, but not having to think is better. Sam lets his mind go, and the pain subsides into a rhythmic throb. He feels tears, warm and wet, slide down his cheeks, tastes their salt in his open mouth, mixing with the hand soap. He hears Bucky’s voice giving the number of each strike and the sound of the wooden paddle bouncing off his smarting skin. He smells Bucky’s aftershave – spicy and woodsy. Sam’s senses seem at once heightened and muted, like he’s looking back at or hovering above himself, while at the same time being frozen in the moment, with each successive strike.

At first, it doesn’t register when Bucky says ‘twelve,’ and the paddle stops coming down. His handcuffs are taken off, the nipple clamps too. Sam falls back into Steve’s arms, and Steve lifts him up easily, one arm under his back and the other under his knees. Sam’s carried to the bathroom bridal style. Steve helps him wash out his mouth with water, gets out most of the soap taste. Then Bucky brushes Sam’s teeth with mint toothpaste, while Steve continues to cradle Sam. Afterwards, Sam’s given his coke, which he sips from slowly. The cold, sweet drink pouring in starts clearing his head. He gazes up at Steve.

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve says, ‘are you okay?’ Bucky’s there too, looking worried.

Sam smiles. ‘Are you kidding? I haven’t cried that well in years.’

‘You’re still crying,’ Bucky says. 

‘I know. It’s awesome.’ Sam wipes his eyes, finishes his coke. Bucky takes the empty bottle.

‘You should probably lie down for a bit.’ Steve carries Sam into the bedroom, lays him on his stomach on the bed, props his head up with a pillow. He grabs a bottle of lotion from the nightstand and squirts some on his palm, begins to gently rub it on Sam’s butt and thighs. He strokes Sam’s hair, ears, and neck, kisses him and repeats ‘you’re beautiful’ and ‘I love you’ over and over again, in a voice that is almost as soothing as the lotion. 

Bucky sits down on the other side of Sam. ‘Give me some of that lotion,’ he tells Steve, ‘I’ll do his nipples.

Steve hands the bottle over. Bucky squirts some lotion onto Sam’s chest and touches Sam’s nipples tentatively. 

‘It’s okay,’ Sam says, ‘I’ve had worse.’

‘You’re into some really weird shit, Wilson.’

‘Shut up, Barnes. It’s my birthday.’

‘Yeah, well, I don’t get it,’ Bucky says, ‘you wanted to spend your birthday dinner alone, so we could pretend to be mad at you and wallop you. That’s weird. That’s something you’re supposed to go out of your way to avoid.’

‘You didn’t seem to wholly hate it,’ Sam says.

‘I was held prisoner for seventy years,’ Bucky says, ‘I have decades of resentment stored up in me. I’m fucked up. What’s your excuse?’

‘Sometimes it just feels really good to cry,’ Sam says. ‘It’s therapeutic, cathartic. Sometimes it’s really hard to express certain emotions. We have all this pressure from society not to show weakness, not to cry, especially as men, but I don’t think that’s healthy, so now and again, I just have to have a really good, hard cry, and as it’s hard just to do it on my own, because I feel silly or whatever, I like being hurt physically. I like having a reason to show the pain that’s inside. Afterwards, yeah, I’m in physical pain, but it’s refreshing, cleansing like there was garbage clogging up my system and now it’s all rinsed out.’

Bucky frowns and touches a tear trail on Sam’s cheek. ‘But we could have seriously injured you.’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘But how did you know we wouldn’t, how did you trust us to chain you up and hurt you?’

Sam smiles at Bucky. ‘Because I trust you.’

‘You trust me?’

‘Yeah, and it feels so good to be under your control, to give you my body like that.’

‘You trust me,’ Bucky says again. It’s no longer a question but there’s bewilderment in his voice.

Sam presses his face up against Bucky’s chest. ‘Yes, Bucky, I trust you.’

‘But why?’

Sam raises his head, and his eyes drift across Bucky's face. ‘Don’t know. Steve trusts you, and I don’t think you’re altogether a bad egg.’

Bucky looks Sam over. ‘You’re still hard.’

‘I was wondering when one of you guys would notice.’

‘You get off on that, on being hurt.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I do.’

‘Why?’

Sam shrugs. ‘Don’t know.’ 

Bucky turns to Steve. ‘And you got off on hurting him.’

Steve looks away, cheeks red. ‘Yeah, I did, do.

‘Does it disturb you?’ Sam asks Bucky. ‘I didn’t mean to make you do something you’re not comfortable with.’

‘I just don’t get it.’ Bucky puts more lotion on Sam’s chest, swirls his fingers around his nipples. ‘I’ve never gotten it, not in the past, and not now. I don’t understand how you can enjoy being in pain. I’ve been hurt, seen other people get hurt. Seeing you like that, utterly helpless and crying, it brought back memories. If I were still the Winter Soldier, I would have broken you completely. You’d probably be dead by now, any information I needed extracted.’

‘Wow, god, man, I’m sorry,’ Sam says, ‘you should have said something. I thought you were okay – ’

‘No, see,’ Bucky says, ‘I wanted to do it. I wanted to show you and myself that I wasn’t the Winter Soldier. That I could stop if I needed to, and I really wanted to make you happy, even if happy for you means lying flat on your face, crying.’

‘It doesn’t always,’ Sam says, ‘but thanks, that’s big of you.’ He pecks Bucky’s lips.

Bucky blushes. ‘No problem.’

‘So, how was our acting?’ Steve asks. He is still holding Sam and soothing his butt and thighs with the lotion.

Sam grins. ‘Good, good. Your impression of a snooty waiter was a little over the top at times, “it will destroy the industrious atmosphere of this brilliant establishment.”’

‘You said to be angry.’

‘I know, but I almost laughed. Overall, though, it was an excellent performance. You could probably get a job selling butt plugs.’ Sam turns to Bucky. ‘You were good too. And that mouth soaping improv, interesting.’

‘You hated it.’

‘No, I didn’t hate it. I would have said something if I hated it. It was unexpected and unpleasant, but I liked how you took charge of things. You are really good at being commanding.’

‘That’s not a new thing,’ Steve says. ‘Bucky’s always been bossy, was bossy back in the ‘30s, ‘40s. Steve, wear your coat. Steve, you forgot to eat breakfast, eat it. You’re staying inside today, Steve, it’s too cold out. Steve, if you get in another fight, so help me God, I will kill your ass.’

‘I was just taking care of you,’ Bucky mumbles.

'Speaking of taking care of.’ Steve slides down and over and kisses the tip of Sam’s cock.

Bucky pushes Steve back. ‘Hey, I want to blow Sam.’

‘No, you’re blowing me afterwards. You owe me, remember?’

‘That was just part of the role-play, along with the costumes, the rented Rover, the borrowed apartment. I want Sam.’

‘Too bad. I call dibs.’

Sam rolls his eyes. ‘When are you guys going to learn to share? You can take turns you know. We've got all night.’

Steve and Bucky exchange glances. ‘Okay.’

Finis.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing anything really just smutty and it will probably be my last, but I wanted to see if I could do it, so there it is. Also, I decided to leave the time and place vague.


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